You're Fired
by Sandorius
Summary: [SV] How would you feel if the woman you loved were sworn to die for you? Short FaroushLyon fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Commander Faroush massaged his head gently and winced at the burgeoning headache in his skull. Paperwork, that was the thing. Tottering piles of reports leered sardonically at him from his desk. Expenditure reports (Kyle had tried to pass off his latest bar bill as 'entertainment expenses'), training reports (Galleon's belief was that the current training regimen for the regular army was much too soft, and was continually submitting suggestions at which Faroush would cringe a little and veto immediately), complaints from palace staff (Kyle again...) and other sundry matters which definitely, incontrovertibly _had_ to be handled by the Commander of the Queen's Guard.

Now he understood why his father had often been a little grumpy whenever Faroush had called unexpectedly at his office. It had only been a few months since the liberation of Sol Falena, but he was already beginning to respect -- and miss -- his father a great deal more.

Then someone knocked on his door. Faroush scowled blackly at the door and mentally willed whoever it was to _read_ the damn 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door and go away. The last thing he needed now was another young noble arrogantly demanding a place in the Queen's Knights, or some doddering old servant coming in to clean the place up. The study was perfectly clean! A little messy, perhaps, but that was how he liked it!

"Prince?" A somewhat timid voice called from behind his door. Faroush brightened a little. This, at least, was one interruption he was glad to suffer.

"Come on in, Lyon. You don't have to keep calling me Prince, you know. Oh my - is that food for me?" Faroush stared at the tray Lyon was holding, which was piled high with various offerings from the palace kitchen. With a great deal of effort he refrained from drooling all over his reports.

"You didn't come out for lunch, so I thought..." Lyon trailed off and stared at the floor. Almost inaudibly, she asked, "Do you like it?"

"Like it?" Faroush leaped up from his desk and dramatically swept a pile of reports off his desk. "Lyon, you're a lifesaver! Is it lunch time already? Damn me, but there's been so much paperwork to do... put that tray down here and join me for lunch, will you?"

"That's good... I… I thought you might be angry I interrupted you," Lyon replied. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and for a while she was absolutely adorable. "You didn't have to do that to those reports, you know." Then it was gone and bam, doom and gloom again.

Faroush waved irritably. "Bah. Reports. I'll pick them up later." He inspected the tray. "Ooh, crab cakes. Here, have one."

Lyon shook her head. "They'll make me fat."

Faroush sighed. "Come on Lyon, just one won't do any harm. Sit down and help me get rid of this pickled cabbage then... I swear whoever told Lyms those things were good for the skin ought to be punished."

Lyon glanced nervously at the door, and said, "I... I'd better not, Prince."

"Hmm? You ate lunch already?"

"Well... no... but...I still have some work to do..."

"But me no buts. You need to take care of yourself too. I am your Commander, after all… do I have to make it a direct order to eat with me? " Faroush clutched his chest and pretended to stagger. "Ah, that the dashing prince of Falena should have to spend his lunch alone, spurned by his beautiful subordinate."

Lyon giggled. "You're acting like Kyle."

"Yeah, well, spend some time with him and it wears off. You just can't help but start to wonder if that attitude of his might actually do some good," Faroush grumbled, secretly glad that Lyon was amused. For the past few days she had seemed a little down. That was, when he had managed to catch a glimpse of her - was it his imagination, or was she avoiding him?

"You look like you need the food, Lyon... you're paler than usual, and your eyes seem a little red... are you getting enough sleep?" She really didn't look well at all. What was the problem?

Lyon stared at the floor again. "I'm fine, Prince. Don't worry about me."

"Is something on your mind? Oh no... did I forget your birthday or something?" Faroush rummaged feverishly in his desk drawer. "Calendar... wait, that can't be right, it's still months away."

"It's nothing, Prince." Lyon seemed even more depressed now. "I... I'm not really hungry, so if you'll excuse me..." She trailed off and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Faroush grabbed her hand and spun her around to face him, hands on her shoulders. "Lyon... please, tell me what's wrong. Is there something I can help with?" For a split second, despite Lyon's best efforts to avoid eye contact, their eyes met. In their bottomless black depths, Faroush read terror. Fear. Maybe a little despair. Certainly nothing he had ever wanted her to feel. Was he the cause? Was that why she had been avoiding him?

"Lyon? Please. You're worrying me." A little embarrassed, he averted his gaze.

"Is what Miakis told me true?" The question was soft, and barely reached Faroush's ears. Maybe it was muffled by the way Lyon had nestled up against his chest.

"Eh? What did she tell you?" Faroush was genuinely puzzled. "Not about the beer, I hope."

"No... that you don't want me as a bodyguard anymore." Lyon looked up at Faroush, the suspicion of tears swimming in her eyes.

"Oh! That." Faroush rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, releasing his hold on Lyon. "Well... erm..."

"Is it?" Lyon repeated.

"I suppose... well..." Faroush grimaced ruefully. "Miakis said she would keep quiet, dammit."

"I... see." Stepping back from Faroush, Lyon looked crushed.

"It's kind of complicated, really. Look, why don't you take a seat and I'll explain." Faroush moved to take her in his arms again. "It's nothing, really."

"No... there's... there's no need... I understand." She was definitely crying now, and pushed Faroush away with one hand, the other fumbling behind her for the doorknob. "If you'll excuse me, Your Highness..."

"Lyon, please. It's not what you think. Lyon!" But she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Lyon lay on her bed, sobbing.

Well, it was to be expected, wasn't it? He was a prince, and she was only an assassin girl his father had taken in out of pity. Anything more was patently impossible. She had already been lucky beyond measure, to be living a life she could not have even imagined when she had been in Nether Gate. She was eternally grateful to Ferid for what he had done. Asking for more would be too much. Or so she told herself.

A frantic hammering broke out on her door. She ignored it.

The first time she had admitted to herself that she had a crush on the prince had been after their escape to Rainwall. The undeniable flush of jealousy she had felt when Salum Barrows had suggested his daughter Luserina as a possible match for him had suprised her a little, but on reflection, explained a great deal of how she had been feeling over the past few years. The troubled way he had glanced at her before giving a polite, non-committal answer was a treasured memory she had often hugged to herself during lonely nights since. Luserina was undeniably pretty, though, with brains and a pedigree to boot. Just the sort of woman to appeal to royalty.

An argument was breaking out outside her room. It sounded like Miakis and the prince. It had to be pretty loud, to penetrate the thick walls.

Or maybe the prince favoured Miakis. Lyon had always envied the easy camaderie they shared, whether teasing Lymsleia or kidding back and forth about the nobility. It wasn't the only thing they shared: they had the same offbeat sense of humour, the same relaxed attitude, the same deceptive competence with their chosen weapons. And the same iron core underneath. It wasn't that she disliked Miakis - she liked Luserina too - but sometimes it just didn't feel fair that she had to practice so hard just to achieve her current level of proficiency with her weapon.

The argument was dying out. Or maybe it was moving next door, she wasn't sure, and wasn't inclined to find out. So what if the two of them wanted to be alone in the prince's room?

She hadn't really believed it when Miakis had told her the prince was planning to fire her. They had been eating lunch together, a few days ago, when Miakis had started asking her some _very_ weird questions about the relationship between the prince and her. The prince had just pointedly ordered her to stay in the palace the night before, which was a little unusual, since he often delighted in bringing her into the absolutely oddest places. So she was a little jumpy, and questions like "Do you like the prince? As in, really like him?" were not doing much to soothe her frazzled nerves. Finally she had been annoyed enough to ask Miakis the reason for the interrogation, at which point Miakis had dropped the bombshell.

There was a sound of crashing glass from outside.

Being Faroush's bodyguard had defined her life. From first reluctantly being coaxed to join in the royal children's games, to sharing their lessons and their pranks, to becoming the very first friends she could call that. Being asked to give it up was unthinkable. Even if she was to stand by while Faroush courted another woman – she could take it, as long as Faroush was happy. Was that why he had asked her that? Some misguided attempt to spare her pain?

More glass broke. This time, it was her window, and she instantly rolled off the bed, grabbing her weapon off the bedside table. Unsheathing it, she found herself facing a slightly shamefaced Faroush, who was bleeding from half a dozen cuts on his face. He shrugged apologetically, and said, "We really need to talk."


	3. Chapter 3

"Prince! Your face!" Lyon dropped her weapon and frantically looked around for a bandage, all the while avoiding looking at Faroush.

"Don't worry about it. We have more important things to worry about." Faroush walked over to Lyon. "Do you mind if we sit down while we talk this out? Climbing in and out of windows really takes it out of one for some reason."

"I… that was really dangerous, Prince," Lyon muttered, eyes firmly cast downward. Obediently, she took a seat on her bed, and Faroush dragged a chair over from the dressing table in front of her. "You could have knocked."

His lips quirked in a smile. "I did. Or didn't you hear?"

Ignoring his feeble attempt to lighten the mood, Lyon clasped her hands tightly together. In a stiff, formal voice, she said, "I… I apologize for my reaction just now, Your Highness."

"There's nothing to apologize for. Do you know why I don't want you to continue as my bodyguard, Lyon?" Faroush asked, leaning forward.

"Does it matter, Your Highness?" Lyon replied in the same wooden voice.

"It matters very much to me. Being a bodyguard is _dangerous_, Lyon."

Had he only just figured that out? Lyon stared at Faroush in honest puzzlement. "I know that, Your Highness. And if you think that would in any way impede the execution of my duty…"

Faroush cut her off with a violent shake of his head. "Dammit, Lyon, how many times have you already died for me?"

"Eh? Erm…"

"Twice! First when Aunt Sialeeds went turncoat, and then there was that business with the Twilight Rune in the mountains. You've done too much for me, Lyon."

"But… it's my job, Prince!" Lyon protested. "That's what I do!"

"I'm making it so that it doesn't have to be your job!" Faroush yelled, instantly regretting it when Lyon shrank back a little from him. Was she really afraid of him? Reproachful black eyes stared at him. Taking a deep breath, he forged ahead. "You've done more for the royal family of Falena than we have any right to ask, Lyon. You've more than earned the right to lead a normal life without being expected to sacrifice it for mine. Not that we had any right to ask such a thing in the first place."

"But… my duty --"

Faroush exploded. "Your _duty_! I never know if you want to be with me or if it's just your damned duty!" Leaping up from his seat, he began to pace back and forth. "I ask if you want to go to the beach with me. You go, 'Of course, Prince. It's my duty to protect you.' I ask if you want to go to the theatre and watch a show. Same thing again, 'It's my duty to follow you wherever you go, Prince.' I feel like I'm just dragging you against your will to all kinds of weird places! Give me a clue here!" He sank bonelessly into his chair, glared balefully at Lyon, and began to massage his temples. "Aargh. Headache."

An awkward silence descended on the room. Lyon was obviously struggling to assimilate what Faroush had just said, and Faroush, on his part, was a little stunned by the ferocity of his own emotional outburst. After a short while, though, Lyon broke the silence in a whisper, "Erm… Prince?"

Faroush nodded. "I'm listening, Lyon."

"I… I'm sorry if I've caused you any trouble, but…" Her voice gained confidence as it went on. "I've never considered my duty a burden to me. Never! Your family took me in when I was alone and afraid, at a time when I didn't know what love, and family, meant. And it's not just that debt of gratitude I owe. I... I really care for you too!" She was crying openly now. "I want to protect you because you're precious to me!"

"Lyon…" Faroush slid off his seat and knelt in front of her. Gently, he took her hands in his and gazed up at her. "Please don't make me watch you die a third time."

Lyon blinked away her tears. "But…"

"Do you think I don't feel the same way about you? Do you know how soul-shattering it is to see someone you care for throw herself in front of a knife for you? And then to have to carry on without her? Life is empty then, and full of despair. Don't make me go through that again, Lyon."

"Still…"

"I want to protect you too, Lyon. I want you to lead a life of your own, and not to have to shadow me all the time. And if you want," Faroush looked a little embarrassed, but continued nevertheless, "I could offer another assignment much similar to your current bodyguard role. Except that we would, as it were, keep an eye on each other."

"Huh?"

"Did you say just now that you cared for me?" Lyon blushed and turned away. "Well, so do I. You're kind, gentle, loyal, and absolutely beautiful to boot. I can't imagine living without you. So I guess what this boils down to is… would you like to be my girlfriend from now on?"

"Oh!" Lyon caught her breath and looked at an obviously blushing Faroush, who had risen and was intently studying the wall next to her bed.

"No pressure or anything!" Faroush hastily added. "Feel free to say no if you don't like the idea." He cast a brief glance at Lyon and waggled his eyebrows. "You might want to take into account the fact that Lyms is inviting Luserina here next week though. She looks up to her as a sister, I think. She might take it into her pretty little head to make that a reality."

"Prince… "Lyon was crying again, but this time, happily. "Of course I will!" She collapsed into his waiting arms.

"Shh… don't cry," Faroush coaxed, wiping tears from Lyon's face. "Everything will be all right." Certainly he felt a great deal better than he had in the past few months. In fact, it was probably the happiest he had been since… practically forever, in fact.

Then his face clouded as a thought occurred to him. Had Miakis planned all this?

"Did you say something, Prince?" Lyon asked.

Faroush shook his head. "Nothing… hmm, did we leave a lunch tray in my office?" He smiled down at Lyon. "What say we go down and finish the food my darling girlfriend brought to me?"

Lyon blushed. "Sure, Prince."

"One more thing. No more of this Prince nonsense. Or Your Highness either."

"But…"

Hand in hand, they left the room.


	4. Epilogue, or possibly Prologue

--A few days ago –

Miakis narrowed her eyes. Sitting across the restaurant at the bar, nursing a mug of beer, was a familiar figure. After years of friendship, there was no way she could fail to recognize Prince Faroush, even if he were dressed in a thick cloak and an absolutely ridiculous top hat to disguise his braid.

"Wait here," she snapped at Roog. "No, on second thoughts, grab a table first and wait there." Roog looked hurt, and she relented a little. "That's the Prince over there. I just want to find out what he's doing here alone."

Enlightened, Roog nodded and took a nearby table, where he was immediately accosted by two buxom waitresses. Suppressing a sudden surge of irritation, she stalked over to the bar and jabbed Faroush in the ribs. "Aren't you underage to be drinking, little boy?"

Faroush turned his head and blearily tried to focus on the interloper. "Oh. Miakis? What are you doing here?"

Miakis crossed her arms and sat down on the stool next to him. "It's none of your business. What are _you_ doing here?"

Faroush turned his attention back to the mug of beer. "Whatever. Just trying this alcohol thing. Isn't it a tradition to get drunk when you're feeling depressed?" He took a long pull of beer. "Can't see the point, really. Tastes terrible. Why not grab a drink too? Misery loves company, after all."

Miakis shuddered. "No thanks. I've got excellent company. Where's Lyon?"

"Ha! Had to order her to stay in the palace. Wouldn't have made sense to go drinking with her, now would it?" He laughed bitterly.

"Why not? She must be worried about you. What if you got mugged? Does she even know you're here?"

"So what if I do get mugged? Better than getting Lyon into trouble again." He stared into his beer. "Fat lot of good I would do her. Might even get her killed again."

Slightly alarmed at this despondent shift in the conversation, Miakis temporized, "Well, it's our job, Prince."

Faroush snorted. "Ha! The title of Queen's Knight does not mean 'personal meatshield of the royal family'. Any of you would make a better ruler than Lyms or me." He suddenly seemed on the point of blubbering in his beer. "Is that why she follows me around, do you think? Because it's just her job?"

Understanding dawned. "Ohh… are you talking about Lyon?"

He glared at her. "Of course."

Miakis thought furiously. "Err… maybe."

"Oh." He looked even more morose.

"But you know… Lyms and I are pretty close, and I don't follow her around half as much as Lyon does you."

"Maybe you're just too relaxed." He emptied his mug, and banged his fist on the bar. "Bartender! Another mug of beer, please!"

"Naw… I think you have a chance, you know."

"Really?" He glanced at her hopefully.

"Yeah. I think she likes you."

"Hmmph." His beer arrived, but he ignored it, instead turning to face Miakis. "I can't take it anymore, you know. This whole bodyguard thing. I had a job to do back then, but now… I don't think I could take it if she died for me."

Miakis gestured helplessly. "I know. Don't forget, I had to follow you around after that time when she was injured. You were more humorless than a rock. Even Zerase tried to cheer you up."

"I've got to fire her or something. She's done too much already." He turned back to his beer and took a moody pull. "I just can't figure out how to do it in a way that won't hurt her feelings."

"You'll figure out a way." Miakis rose and patted him on the back. "Good luck. Try not to drink too much, you'll regret it in the morning."

"So I hear." He smiled at her. "Sorry to interrupt your date with your dashing Dragon Knight. I hear he asked to be assigned permanently to Sol-Falena. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, now would you?"

Miakis blushed furiously.

"I've had enough for today, I guess. Beer is overrated," he said, rising from his seat as well. "Thanks for listening, Miakis. Please don't tell Lyms or Lyon about this, okay?"

Miakis smiled angelically. "I'll try to resist the temptation."

"Hmmph." Faroush left the restaurant, and Miakis returned to Roog, who had successfully parried the waitresses and was waiting somewhat impatiently.

"So why was the Prince here? Isn't he a little too young to be drinking?" Roog asked.

"Girl trouble." Miakis winked at Roog.

"Ohh. Well, not everyone can be as lucky as me," Roog grinned.

"And you'd better remember that, Mister," Miakis smirked. She looked at the doorway out of which the Prince had just slouched, and the smirk widened to a feral grin. "Maybe I can do something to help those two out."

* * *

**A/N:** So... that's it for an idea I first got when playing SV and Lyon almost got killed by Dolph and you went on a really really long quest to 'awaken' the Dawn Rune or something like that. It is _not _a good idea to get romantically attached to your bodyguard.

Aargh! And I don't even like Lyon! She's whiny! Luserina would be a much better match for Faroush! Why does Lyon get 1000x the screen time Luserina does? Or Miakis, even?

The characters might be a little OOC. Especially Faroush, but then, he's the hero, so he's pretty much a blank slate as far as characterization is concerned. I don't care, I think they're nicer this way ;

Hope you enjoyed this fic. Dedicated to 'Public Speaking' by Rayless Night, and 'Someone from Nowhere' by Suikorin. Keep them up, I hate it when interesting stories die on me.


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